In Him We Trust
The mirror stood before him, a lot more ominous than it had been when he visited it under cover of night. He looked at the image reflected back; a plain image of himself – no, himself with a small smile. He tried to think of a reason that the mirror version of him would be smiling when it happened. There was a breath, a small moment before Harry felt a pressure in his pocket. He knew, without having to check, that the stone had become his. His heart began to race as he tried to think of a fake wish of his; what would he want? Harry remembered back to Ron's first encounter with the mirror. The words were falling from his mouth before he knew and suddenly Quirrel was unravelling the turban he had sported all year. His heart stopped as he watched the reveal of the disfigured face of Voldemort.
Harry backed away, his face twisting into a horror-filled expression. His hand flew to his scar; he knew the reason for its pain now. He heard Quirrel's words and a shiver ripped down his spine.
"Give me the stone!"
He couldn't. He had to stop him.
"Kill him!"
Quirrel was reaching for him, and Harry knew that the end was near. He needed to do something drastic, something he didn't know how to do. Quirrel didn't go for his throat, as expected. No, his hand slipped into Harry's pocket and grabbed hold of the stone. With a yell, the young boy jumped back – his breathing heavy. But he wasn't able to stop the teacher from taking what he wanted. Harry looked back to the Professor, who was looking at the almost glowing red stone with a look of pure glee. The face attached to the back of his head was cackling loudly.
Then suddenly he was gone. The fire dispersed and Harry sat on the step, staring at the place Quirrel had just vacated. Dumbledore burst through the door behind him, eyes searching the room and landing on Harry. Behind him was Professor McGonagall, whose face was almost as white as a sheet. They were both shocked when they heard the boy speak.
"I couldn't stop him," he said softly, "I let him get away."
"He has it. He has the stone."
The Headmaster kept a careful watch over the boy in the coming weeks, and sent many of his allies to various places that Voldemort used to frequent. They all returned with no news, until one day one of them didn't return. Dumbledore knew what this meant. He watched the children as they enjoyed their dinner and knew that there was little he could do but hope that he and the other teachers were strong enough to stop this villain who had now come back – stronger than ever.
Harry looked up at the teachers' table and frowned as his eyes locked with Dumbledore's. The old Professor was musing on the prophesy, praying that somehow this green-eyed little boy was strong enough to face what was coming.
May Merlin be with you, Harry Potter.
A/N: Words - 515
